The MORE Trilogy (14 page)

The uneasy feeling that something was missing followed Ava to physics the next morning. She sat through the lecture, doodling on her notepad absently. Only at the end of class did she realize the page was covered with sketches of eyes.

Dark, menacing eyes narrowed in anger, suspicion . . . maybe even hate.

Even though they were drawn in the gray-black shades of a pencil, she didn’t need color to recognize that one eye was blue, the other green. Over and over again, the eyes of her attacker stared up at her from her notebook. With a growl of frustration, she ripped the page out and crumpled it into a ball. Her lab partner eyed her curiously.

“Something bothering you?” David asked as they packed up their things and headed out of the lecture hall. “You seemed to be somewhere else.”

“Just a little distracted,” Ava admitted. “Lot on my mind.”

David nodded, shifting uneasily on his feet. “Well, if you need anything,” he began lamely, his freckled cheeks flushing hotly as he dropped his gaze.

“Thanks. I’ll be fine,” Ava replied with a smile. “Although if you wouldn’t mind e-mailing me your notes? I don’t think I got anything today.”

“Sure, no problem,” David said as they walked down the front steps. He shot her a quick wave as they parted, and Ava found herself heading back to the dorm, lost in thought.

When the dorm came into view, instead of continuing to the front door she stood across the wide pathway, looking up toward her room. Frowning, her head still throbbing slightly, she looked around the grassy courtyard, unsure of what exactly she was looking for. She wandered around aimlessly, running a hand over a tree trunk, kicking a loose rock—smiling reassuringly at the police officer assigned to her, who was trying hard not to look like he was wondering what in the world she was doing. Ava tucked her hands in her pockets and sighed heavily.

Something was happening, but she had no idea what it was. She was missing something . . . had somehow
forgotten
something important. She shut her eyes, trying to picture her actions the night before.

“You all want a refill?”

The customer smiles and asks for the check.

A phone call—”You have reached the voice mail for the Partner Program at Allenmore College, no one is available to take your call . . .”

Uncertainty. What to do? Who to call?

Jake rattling dishes in the back. “You heading home soon? Looks like your buddy’s here.”

Following his pointing finger to the front door.

Then . . . nothing.

The doorway, empty . . . dark.

No, wait. There’s someone there.

Ava’s heart beat heavily in her chest as she mentally focused on that dark doorway, but nothing appeared . . . no one. She opened her eyes, gazing unseeingly forward at the building across from her dorm. Bidden by some imperceptible force, she walked toward the building, her eyes locked on the brick wall. With each step, the bricks grew bigger and bigger, until the rest of her surroundings disappeared in the edges of her vision.

“The Closed sign was a dead giveaway.”

Ava blinked as Caleb’s voice came to mind suddenly.

“Shhh . . .”

Ava’s vision swam as she reached out to touch the worn bricks, her fingers running over the broken surface of the decades-old mortar. Slowly, her eyes drifted down to the sparse grass under her feet, flattened as if . . .

“The Council gave me three days.”

“Time’s up.”

Dazed, Ava looked up, spotting a tree across the courtyard. It was only a tree, a regular, run-of-the-mill maple or elm—she wasn’t sure—but it seemed to call to her somehow. Slowly, she approached it, hands pressed against the rough bark. Unable to say why, she laid her body against the tree as if . . . no, that wasn’t right. She circled to the other side of the tree and resumed her position, pressed up against it.

“You can’t outrun me, Caleb.”

Caleb.

Ava’s breath caught as the realization hit her. Something had happened. Something involving the man who’d attacked her—and Caleb Foster.

She was as certain of it as she was her own name.

The only thing she didn’t understand is
why.
A multitude of whys, actually.

Why couldn’t she remember past a few scattered images and thoughts?

Why was the man after her in the first place?

Why did he seem to know Caleb?

Why was Caleb hiding it?

“Miss Michaels?” Ava looked up to see her assigned bodyguard approaching her slowly. “Is there something wrong?”

Ava forced a smile. It all sounded so crazy, not to mention confusing, and she needed to get her thoughts straight before talking to anyone. Caleb was hiding something, but somehow she knew that he wasn’t the threat. He was, in some strange way, trying to help her.

She needed to think.

She needed to remember.

What she didn’t need, at least not at that moment, was to talk to the police about all of the insanity. So instead, she painted on a smile.

“Sorry,” she said. “I’m fine. Just a . . . project for my English class. We have to write a paper on our observations.”

The cop nodded as if he understood, even though Ava was pretty sure he didn’t. She took the opportunity to escape, though, smiling at him as she walked back to the dorm and headed up to her room. She made her way to the desk and sat down, staring at nothing as she tried to make sense of things. With a frustrated huff, she reached into her backpack and pulled out her notebook, opening it to a blank page. Biting her lip, she began to make a list.

The Attacker

No, that wasn’t right. Ava scratched through the words and instead wrote
Tiernan.
Under his name, she wrote down everything she remembered about him—where she’d seen him, what he looked like, things he said. She did the same for the dark-haired woman—although that list was considerably shorter. Finally, with only a brief hesitation, she started a list for Caleb.

At first, she jotted down seemingly inane observations, like
genius
and
good teacher.
But then she found herself adding things she hadn’t ever consciously thought of before, like
taller than he seems at first
and
is
everywhere
lately.
By the time she was finished, Ava had covered the page front and back, and was convinced that Caleb was connected to the attack—no,
attacks
, she corrected. She was absolutely certain now that the man had returned the night before and that Caleb protected her. The memories were fleeting, but she had no doubt they were true.

She also believed that Caleb wasn’t exactly what he appeared to be. When she thought back over the time she’d spent with him, she realized there were moments when he seemed different—almost
bigger . . .
 
stronger.
And there was the time she’d caught him reading without his glasses. He’d covered for it, putting them on quickly and making a joke about it. At the time, she’d written it off, but it seemed to add to the mystery surrounding him. Not to mention what was happening with her memories. As insane as it sounded, she truly believed Caleb had something to do with that, as well.

Ava sighed, slumping in her seat. The pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, but some seemed to be misaligned—like she was trying to jam one into the wrong spot. It was almost right, but not quite perfect. Frustration and despair warred within her because she felt like the missing piece from the middle—the picture not finished until she became a part of it. But she had no idea where she belonged, where she fit in the strange situation that she was still trying to figure out.

Ava stared blankly at the list on the desk in front of her for a moment, before sparing a glance at the clock and folding the paper in half. With a sigh, she grabbed her backpack, tucked the list inside, and headed for the door.

She had classes to get to, homework to do. But she also knew she had questions that needed to be answered.

And sooner or later, she’d track down Caleb and find out what he knew.

Chapter 7

“Luce, it’s your turn.” Ava whined, waving at the overflowing garbage can.

“Nope,” she replied stubbornly. “I did it last night.”

“It was almost
empty
last night.” Ava crossed her arms over her chest. “Except for a pizza box.”

Lucy shrugged. Despite the fact that they were best friends, this had been an ongoing battle between the two. They worked together when it came to keeping the room clean, but taking out the garbage was another thing altogether. Part of it had to do with the fact that it was about fifteen degrees out, and the dumpster hulked in the dark behind the dorm inside a fenced courtyard. Neither girl liked venturing out.

“Besides, you have a bodyguard,” Lucy pointed out.

Ava sighed. Lucy had been overly protective at first about the attack and the police response, but she’d come to appreciate the constant presence of a police car outside their dorm. Although Ava was glad that Lucy had calmed down a bit, she almost wished she could milk her situation just a little, if only to avoid having to take out the garbage. Instead, she yanked the bag out of the can with a glare in Lucy’s direction. Lucy ignored it, of course, and turned back to her book.

“Don’t go alone,” she called out before Ava walked through the door.

“Oh, sure,
now
you’re concerned,” Ava yelled back. Lucy laughed, and Ava headed down the stairs and out the front door. She waved at the police car, holding up the bag, and one of the detectives stepped out, following her around to the back of the building.

“Sure is cold,” he said, pulling his wool coat tighter around him.

Ava nodded. “I’m sorry you guys have to sit out in this.”

He shrugged. “It’s not a problem, ma’am. The car’s pretty warm.”

Ava smiled, opening the gate to the small, enclosed area holding the dumpster and recycle bins. The detective turned to survey the frost-covered strip of grass and trees between the dorms, hands in his pockets and whistling lightly as Ava walked inside. She hefted the lid of the dumpster, swinging the bag into its depths with a satisfying
thwap
. Letting the lid fall back down, she noticed the detective had stopped whistling. In fact, she couldn’t hear him at all.

“Is everything okay?” she asked warily, peering through the fence slats into the darkness. “Detective?”

Only the slight rustle of wind in the trees responded to her call.

Ava stiffened, fear coiling deep in her belly as every hair on her body stood up on end. Suddenly, she knew she was no longer alone in the courtyard. She turned on her heel, padding quietly toward the gate, one hand trailing lightly along the fence boards. She passed through, looking to her left, only to find the detective slumped on the ground in a heap.

Hurrying to his side, she bent over him, pressing two fingers to his neck and only releasing a relieved breath when she felt the steady beat of his heart. Ava stood quickly, whirling around to race to the police car for help, only to come face to face with the man who’d haunted her nightmares for so long. She staggered back, opening her mouth to scream, but he moved—impossibly fast—and pressed his hand over her open mouth.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he said in a gruff, singsong voice. “Wouldn’t want me to have to deal with the other detective, too, right?”

Ava strained against him, but his hold only tightened as he pulled her back into the fenced area and out of sight. She struggled for breath, his heavy hand pressing up against her nose, and he seemed to recognize the problem because he removed his hand, keeping her against him firmly with his other hand.

“Caleb!” she screamed, unsure why she would call out to him, but it seemed almost instinctive.

Her attacker covered her mouth again, more carefully this time. “Caleb’s occupied at the moment,” he growled. “Now, relax. I’m not going to hurt you. Not yet, at least. But if you scream, I’ll have no choice but to knock you out.”

Ava whimpered behind his hand.

“Are you going to be a good girl?” he asked mockingly. “Nice and quiet?”

Ava nodded slowly, terrified. He released her, taking a step back, and she caught her breath for a moment. Finally, she asked, “What do you want with me? And how do you know Caleb?”

The man smiled humorlessly. “Caleb and I go way back.” He stepped over to the gate, peering out to make sure no one had heard her shout. “As for what I want with you. Nothing. But my job is to bring you in for testing.”

Ava’s eyes darted to the open gate and the huge bulk of man blocking her way. If she could just get him to relax, maybe she could make a run for it. She shuffled slightly to the right. “Testing?” she repeated, eager to keep him talking.

“If things are normal. You’ll be released. No harm done.” He backed away from the opening, pulling a cell phone from his pocket and tapping on the screen.

“ ‘Normal?’ ” she repeated. “And what if they’re not . . . normal?” Another small step to the right. And another. He kept tapping away.

“None of my business,” he muttered gruffly, not sparing her a glance. He stared at his phone, absorbed, and paced a bit toward the dumpster.